


Mistaken

by Anjelle



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjelle/pseuds/Anjelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breaking into one of the nice houses on his side of town, Ace never expected to be mistaken for its occupant's brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistaken

Ace used his money troubles and the hardships forced upon the working class to justify it when he found himself picking the lock of the door to one of the fanciest houses on the block. He wasn't really sure how he'd gotten there or what possessed him to go that far, but there he stood with the makeshift lock-pick in one hand and the handle turned and pushed open with the other, and when he thought about it he decided that he really,  _really_  didn't want to turn back now.

He could do this. He  _could_.

That was what he thought when he found himself standing in the living room, faced with a sleepy-looking boy half his height.

_Shishitshitshit—_

The child rubbed his eyes and yawned as he stood in the doorway to what  _looked_  to be a kitchen from that angle, and Ace stayed frozen. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?! Threaten him? No—he'd probably scream and call for someone. Then… what? Fucking  _gag_  him? He'd seen Ace's face because, for some stupid-as-shit reason, the newly-dubbed burglar hadn't worn a bloody mask! So… so  _now_  what?

He took a deep breath, furrowing his brow. "Uh… hi."

 _Fucking brilliant_. What made him think this was a good idea again? God, if he was caught by some little shit like that…

The boy looked up at him blearily, offering a tired smile. "Hi!"

Ace swallowed. Okay… so far so good, he guessed. "Shouldn't you be sleeping, little guy?"

"Mhmm," the child grunted with a curt nod, "but I got hungry."

"Uh-huh. Right…" Strange kid.

The boy's face broke out into a wide, excited grin that almost made Ace anxious. "Are you my brother?" The burglar just stared at the child, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and that seemed to somehow be cue for the other to continue. "Gramps said you weren't coming back. But I told him you would!"

…What? Did he… look like the boy's brother? But then… why would he need to ask? Wouldn't he just say his brother's name? Yet he was acting like they hadn't met before…

He was pulled from his thoughts when the boy grabbed his head and tugged him towards the kitchen. "Y'hungry? Should I go wake up Gramps?"

Ace's eyes doubled and he shook his head. "No! Er, I mean… the man needs his sleep, right?"

"Mmm… okay!"

When he turned to leave the room—make his escape and abort his plan entirely—he was met with a tug to the hem of his shirt. Grey eyes scrolled down to meet brown, looking up at him with such unabashed sadness, and he bit his lip.

"…You're leaving?"

"Y-yeah…"

"But why?" The child's frown deepened. "I've always wanted to meet my big brother Sabo… Gramps doesn't have any pictures, but he told me stories. Don't go…"

…Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck the brat was  _guilt tripping_  him! And it wasn't even for something he did! That was cheating!

…But he couldn't really say anything since he broke in, huh…

And those  _eyes_! He looked like a kicked puppy or something!

Heaving a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Just… call me Ace, alright? It's a, uh, nickname. Yeah. That." And now he was giving the boy his name. What was wrong with him? Must've lost his mind.

The boy latched onto his legs and held them in a tight hug, now a bubbly, giggling mess. "Shishishi thank you, Ace!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

And as he stood there, listening to the kid rambling on about this and that, he again asked himself how he'd wound up there, and how he'd get back.

Things could never go well for him, could they?


End file.
